Page 51 of Knight from the Ashes (Crown and Crest 1)

Without a doubt, my fellow ladies-in-waiting would faint on the spot—not a bad strategy when you consider the monster is as tall as three men. Playing dead doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea.

How are we supposed to fight this creature?

The monster walks upright on two treelike legs, swinging long, muscled arms that hang to his knees. His entire body is covered in thick, black fur, and one solitary eye bulges from above his massive bat-snout nose.

Upside down, Pranmore hangs from one of the aynauth’s meaty paws, his hair and antlers nearly brushing the ground.

Henrik curses under his breath, not bolstering my spirits one bit.

“Stay here,” he commands, a little firmer than before. But apparently doubting I’ll listen this time either, he turns and locks his eyes on mine. “I mean it, Clover.Stay put.”

I grab his arm before he can walk away. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to save the idiot elf,” he says, frustrated.

Refusing to release him, I demand, “Buthow?”

Turning, he takes my shoulders and physically sets me back. “You’re not going to stay here, are you?”

“It’s not likely.”

He releases me, turning to look at the aynauth. The monster stops to stare at several chattering birds in the tree, and he absently swings Pranmore back and forth like a child with a doll.

“All right,” Henrik says. “This is what we’re going to do. Do you see that building there?”

I follow his eyes when he points. “The two-story one?”

He nods. “Do you think you can make it to the upper level and then climb through the window and onto that tree limb?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“All right. I want you to get into position there in the tree—nice and high. As soon as I have Pranmore, and we’re safely away, shoot the aynauth—and don’t be shy about it. He’s not going to be happy if all works out as planned, and I don’t want him taking after us until I have Pranmore safely away.”

“What are you going to do exactly?”

“Don’t worry about it. Follow me.”

He jogs into the inner square, half-crouched, hiding behind damaged buildings, random trees, and rubble.

Feeling like a fool, certain we’re going to be spotted, I stay low, retracing Henrik’s steps, hurrying to keep him in view. One thing quickly becomes apparent—I need a new outfit if I’m going to embrace this adventuring lifestyle. Every few seconds, some weed, twig, or sharp piece of cobblestone catches on my gown’s hem, yanking me back. Once, I almost fall on my rump. As if the skirts aren’t enough of a nuisance, the corset digs into my ribs as I try to crouch low. The garment was obviously not designed for stealth.

I’ve lost sight of the aynauth, but I still see Henrik. We make it to the building, and he jerks his head toward the entrance. “Be careful. It’s likely not very stable.”

Without hesitation, I hurry inside. It doesn’t take long to find the stairs that lead to the upper level, but several of the wooden treads are rotted. My eyes land on the iron handrails. Though they’re thin, they look sound.

Sweeping my gown and underskirts under my arm so they won’t trip me as I climb, I gingerly step up the first stair, tightly holding the railing. The board bows under my weight, but it holds.

Moving swiftly, I hurry up the remaining steps, counting in my head to keep from dwelling on how awful it would be to fall into the dark hole that looms under the stairs.

“Nine, ten…”

Suddenly, the eleventh board collapses under my weight. I let out a girly squeal as I fall, stopping with a horrible jerk as I catch myself with the rail.

I hang here, my palms growing slick, fighting to pull myself up to the next step. My gown fell in the drop, and it tangles around my feet, making it almost impossible to get my footing.

Sweat beads on my brow as I struggle, and panic flutters like a trapped bird in my chest.

Finally, I manage to pull myself up. Breathing hard, shaking a little, I run up the last few stairs.

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